


Betrayal

by sphekso



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 08:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4618293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sphekso/pseuds/sphekso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Margot is up late at Bedelia's studying for her MCATs. As the evening progresses, the situation becomes a little more intimate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Betrayal

Bedelia slammed a heavy book down on her desk. “This has everything you need to know,” she said. “Start here. Read it front to back, take notes, and memorize.”

Margot leaned over the desk to read the title. “DSM-5? I’ve seen this on Alana’s bookshelf.”

“I should hope so,” Bedelia replied. “It stands for the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. Fifth edition.”

Margot opened the book to a random page. “Narcissistic Personality Disorder? That sounds like my brother.”

“Most likely, though I don’t know his diagnosis and hesitate to speculate on it.” She closed the book. “There’s more to study, of course, but the DSM is the most important tool in any psychiatrist’s arsenal.”

“Do you think I’m ready for this? I’ve only just begun.”

Bedelia patted the front cover. “It’s never too early to start your studies. You’ll have to learn much more than psychiatry during your education, but if you’re passionate, you’ll be able to slip into your specialty faster and with greater ease.”

“And this will help with my MCATs?” Margot asked.

“In part.” Bedelia crossed to her shelves and selected a few books. She dropped them on top of the DSM. “Read these, as well. They’re not specific to psychiatry. You’ll find them to be more generally helpful.”

“I appreciate it,” Margot said, going to heft the texts.

Bedelia caught her by the wrist. “Before you go,” she began, “would you mind telling me why you aren’t letting your wife help you with this? She’s a renowned psychiatrist in her own right.”

Margot locked eyes with Bedelia, just for a second, then darted her gaze down at her feet. Her cheeks burned.

“Margot?” Bedelia prodded.

“I’m more comfortable with someone I’m not… intimate with,” Margot said, still staring at her stark black heels.

Bedelia paused, and Margot wondered if she’d noticed her blushing. “I suppose that makes sense,” Bedelia said, and paused again. “Are your shoes really that interesting?” she asked, a lilt of playfulness to her voice.

It only made Margot blush harder, but she knew she couldn’t look at her feet forever. She glanced up cautiously, then back down again, then back up in earnest. Bedelia had a slight smile on her face, the right corner of her lips obscured by a lock of blonde hair.

Bedelia checked her watch. “It’s getting late,” she said. “Don’t you have obligations at home?”

“Alana won’t be home yet, but if you need me to go…”

Bedelia tucked her hair behind her ears, something Margot had never seen her do. Margot had always loved her prominent cheekbones, and now they were on full display. They were almost as high as Hannibal’s, but hers were more delicate: avian, almost. And her eyes… Margot blinked hard, hoping to get the thoughts out of her head. “I don’t need you to go anywhere,” Bedelia said. “I was considering a glass of wine. Would you like to join me?”

“Do students usually share wine with their teachers?” Margot asked.

Bedelia smiled again. “I’m not formally your teacher. Red or white?”

“Red,” Margot replied.

“Something dry, I think. I’ll bring it here.”

Margot watched her leave, doing her best not to drink in her figure with her back turned and swaying as she walked. After Bedelia had gone, Margot surveyed her desk. Books, papers, a fountain pen and ink blotter. She noted that there were no pictures in frames. Alana kept a photo of Margot on hers. She felt a pang of guilt at that, but quickly shook it away. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. Yet.

She noticed a journal on Bedelia’s desk. She had an overwhelming urge to open it and take a peek into her new mentor’s private life, but she didn’t know how long Bedelia would be gone. It wouldn’t be good for her to return to Margot’s nose in her diary. She lightly caressed the leather. What if Bedelia had written about her? What kind of observations would she jot down? Clinical ones? Friendly? Romantic? She shuddered at the last thought. “Get yourself together,” she muttered.

“Come again?” Bedelia asked. She’d returned with two glasses and a bottle of Chianti.

Margot started, nearly tripping over her heels as she took an alarmed step back. “Just talking to myself,” she said with a tight-lipped smile.

Bedelia peered at her skeptically, but didn’t say a word more about it. She uncorked the bottle and tipped it over the glasses, filling them a little more than proper etiquette should allow. Margot wondered if she intended to get them tipsy, but dismissed it as wishful thinking. As far as she knew Bedelia had never dated, so it was impossible to know if she might be interested in her. But Margot was a married woman, and shouldn’t even be entertaining the thought. It was still there, though, clinging to her brain like a tick and burrowing like a worm.

Margot took a sip of the wine. “Wonderful,” she said, but she was far from well versed in wines.

Bedelia gave a slight nod and raised her own glass to her lips. Margot watched them part to accept the warm liquid and a burst of warmth rushed through her body. “I’m glad you like it,” Bedelia said. “Come, sit.” She gestured to the pair of leather chairs she used during therapy. She settled into one, and Margot sat across from her.

Bedelia crossed her legs. Margot took another sip at the sight, but it was more like a gulp.

“So, why medical school? Why now?” Bedelia asked. “I’m sure the Verger estate will more than support your financial needs.”

“I’d like to keep busy,” Margot replied. “With Alana gone so much, there’s nothing for me to do at home.”

“I heard you were attempting in vitro. Won’t it be difficult to care for a child while you attend school?”

“That ship has sailed,” Margot said, and took another healthy gulp of Chianti. “Alana’s eggs haven’t been viable, so far.”

“Surrogacy, then?”

“Maybe one day. Maybe…” Margot trailed off. “But for now I need something more immediate. We still have time to make that decision, and to be honest I don’t know if I could handle a child. I don’t know if I could even handle a dog.”

“Or a pig, as it were.” Bedelia half-smiled and leaned forward, one hand on her knee, the other propped up on the armrest holding her wine glass. Her hair tumbled over her left ear, but she made no effort to correct it.

“I’ve had enough of pigs for one life,” Margot said. “Or for dozens.”

Bedelia chuckled. “Yes, I suppose that’s right. You must be pleased to be free of Muskrat Farm.”

“You have no idea,” Margot said.

“And pleased to have a partner now, as well?”

Margot physically cringed.

Bedelia tipped her head ever so slightly to the side. “You just had a reaction,” she said.

“A reaction? I didn’t have a reaction.”

Bedelia swirled her glass a little, the wine reaching up toward the edges. “I’m a psychiatrist; I know a reaction when I see one. Are you two having problems?”

“No, nothing like that. It’s great.” She fidgeted with her skirt and added hastily, “I love Alana.”

“Of course,” Bedelia said, and righted her head. Her eyes twinkled knowingly, though, and it made Margot uncomfortable.

“Can we change the subject?” Margot asked. She was beginning to feel the wine.

“Of course,” Bedelia replied. “It’s your hour.”

Margot squinted at her, then shook her head when she realized the joke. “Ever the therapist,” she said.

“Even in polite company,” Bedelia said. “Would you like some more wine?”

Margot hadn’t even noticed her empty glass. She knew she shouldn’t. She didn’t completely trust herself around Bedelia, and with alcohol in the mix… “Yes,” she said. She mentally cursed herself. She wasn’t strong enough to resist the woman in front of her.

Bedelia retrieved the bottle from her desk and refilled both of their glasses. “There’s a certain drawback to becoming a psychiatrist,” she said. She leaned against her desk, and left Margot’s full glass sitting next to her as she drank her own wine.

“What’s that?”

“You won’t be able to shut it off. You’ll pick up on the subtlest of hints.”

“What are you saying?” Margot asked, and joined her by the desk. When she reached for her glass, Bedelia gripped the stem and moved it out of reach.

“Is your wife aware of your feelings?” Bedelia asked.

A feeling of dread settled in Margot’s belly. “What feelings?”

“You have feelings for me,” Bedelia said simply. “Though I can see your attempts to deny them.”

Margot desperately reached for her wine.

Bedelia pulled it even further away. “You can have your wine when you’ve answered my questions. Does she know? And is it physical, or romantic?”

“I can’t answer that,” Margot replied. “I can’t answer that without… betraying her.”

“Confirmation, then.”

“You can’t tell her.”

Bedelia clucked her tongue and handed the wine to Margot. “I’m well versed in confidentiality. I’m also well versed in betrayal.”

Margot’s eyes began to water. “Betrayal?”

“I won’t pretend to know what you should do, Margot, only what intrigues you. I intrigue you, and I’ve never been one to follow the rules. Drink your wine.”

Margot drained her glass in a few long gulps. Bedelia’s eyebrow rose when she looked back to her.

“I can promise you that it won’t get back to Alana,” Bedelia said, “if that’s what you decide.”

“Drink your wine,” Margot echoed, all but ignoring her.

“Is that a decision?” Bedelia asked.

Margot found herself placing her hand on Bedelia’s. Every cell of her brain screamed out for her to stop, but the warmth in her chest, the very _urge_ of it all, overpowered any sanity she held. “It’s a decision,” she whispered.

Bedelia set her wine aside and brushed her palm against Margot’s cheek. Margot’s eyes fluttered shut. “You fascinate me,” Bedelia said.

“Do you want me, too?” Margot asked.

“It’s a professional curiosity,” Bedelia replied, and kissed the cheek her hand had just caressed.

Margot melted, and any reservations she had about her betrayal faded away. Before long, their lips and tongues entangled. Margot reached under Bedelia’s blouse and found purchase at her breast. Bedelia began to unbutton Margot’s shirt, starting at the top, exposing her bra as she moved down. She kissed her neck, then lower, trailing her lips along her cleavage. Margot groaned and lightly squeezed Bedelia’s breast.

Margot’s phone went off in her purse just as Bedelia reached into her skirt. “Ignore it,” Bedelia said, fingers gripping the top of Margot’s panties.

“I can’t,” Margot said. “It could be Ala—“ and then everything she’d done, everything she was doing, everything she intended to do flooded up to her. She gasped for air, but all that filled her lungs was the sense of betrayal she’d done so well to push aside.

Bedelia sighed and disengaged herself from Margot. “It could be your wife,” she said.

Margot scrambled for her purse, retrieved her phone, and slid her finger to unlock it. She put the phone to her ear. “Hello?” She hadn’t had time to check the caller ID.

“Hey, baby,” Alana buzzed through the speaker.

That sinking feeling came back, worse this time. It was a worst-case scenario kind of feeling. She flashed a look of terror at Bedelia, who was already re-buttoning her blouse. “Alana?” Margot greeted, but it was more of a question.

“Margot? Is something wrong?” Alana asked.

“I’m fine,” Margot said. “I thought you would be working.”

Bedelia refilled the wine glasses. She clearly knew Margot would need another after what had transpired.

“I came home early,” Alana said. “Where are you?”

“ _Half-truths_ ,” Bedelia whispered, just loud enough that Margot could hear but Alana could not.

“Bedelia’s. She’s helping me with my MCATs.”

“Is that right?” Alana said, and for a moment Margot began to panic even more than she already had. “Well, I’m making lasagna. I’ll keep it warm for you.”

“Thanks,” Margot said. “I’ll see you as soon as we finish up here.”

“Love you,” Alana said, and it cut Margot like a knife. A tear slid down her cheek.

“Love you too,” Margot said, and terminated the call.

“You’re crying,” Bedelia observed. “I suppose you weren’t ready after all.”

“I guess not,” Margot replied. “Can we still share the wine?”

“If you’d like,” Bedelia said. “I do enjoy your company. Greatly.”

“Just… not that kind of company?”

“Maybe one day you’ll change your mind,” Bedelia replied. “Until then… let’s have a seat, shall we?”

“Yes,” Margot agreed, cradling her glass. “Let’s have a seat.”


End file.
